Unforgettable
by mockingjayde
Summary: The rebellion has failed, and the Hunger Games are back on. To punish Katniss for sparking the rebellion, two of her loved ones are thrown into the Games. Prim and Gale. Plutarch Heavensbee was right, this year's Games are going to be quite unforgettable.
1. Prolouge

"'_If we lose?' Plutarch looks out at the clouds, and an ironic smile twists his lips. 'Then I would expect next year's Hunger Games to be quite unforgettable."' _Mockingjay_, pg 84._

**A/N: **Okay, so this is my attempt at making a continual story. It's based on this line above from Mockingjay. ^^^ To clarify, Peeta is NOT hijacked during this time. Oh, and this is told in Prim's point of view.

**Disclaimer: **I am not Suzanne Collins. I can only wish. All rights go to her.

Prologue:

_Katniss screams. The sound is heard even through the loudest of Capitol noises. Today's the day of the 76th Games. A team of escorts show up to take her out- but not before Peeta can calm her down. He wraps his arms gently around her, whispering, trying to soothe her; "shhh.. It'll be okay, Katniss. I'm right here. Everything will be fine." She has to be strong if she's going to be a mentor. She has to be strong if she wants her sister and Gale to make it out alive. Every breath she takes feels like a knife to the lungs, the heart. She's holding on to Peeta tightly, as if he's the one thing anchoring her to the rest of the world. They don't have much time left. Her very worst fears have came true, the Hunger Games are not over. President Snow is as powerful as ever, and nothing, _nothing_, can keep her family safe. _

_Peeta continues rubbing her back, trying to calm her. "It's okay, Katniss. Everything will be fine." But not even Peeta can soothe her, because Katniss knows that things are far, far, from being okay._


	2. The Arena

**A/N: **A reminder; pretend Mockingjay never existed. Well actually, pretend Peeta's not hijacked and Finnick and most everyone who died is still alive. And don't worry, I'll go back and do some flashbacks to fill you in on some parts missed.

**Disclaimer: **I am not Suzanne Collins. All rights go to her.

The Arena:

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the brilliant rays of sunshine. I'm dreading the end of these sixty seconds- when I'll be released and expected to kill these innocent people. This year, the Seventy-Sixth Hunger Games take place in a large meadow with a haunting forest surrounding it. Willow trees stand tall in the outskirts and the grass is like a sea of green with random patches of yellow. Daisies. There's no denying that the Gamemakers modeled it after the song my sister sang for that girl, Rue. _Deep in the meadow, under the willow, a bed of grass, a soft green pillow… _The song instantly plays in my head, except Katniss is singing it to _my_ death, not Rue's. I'll die in this meadow, I'm sure of it. Here it is not safe, or warm. It's the compete opposite. I can only wonder what kind of toxins these daisies and trees hold inside them.

In order to punish us for our recent behavior, President Snow decided to add a few special twists to these particular Games, just as if it were Quarter Quell. First of all, the Games are held earlier, not at it's usual one year mark. It's only been about a month since Quarter Quell ended, and it was just last week when the rebels were caught by Snow and the Capitol. This year, the crazy twist is that tributes will be picked from a previous Victor's or Tribute's relatives and loved ones, regardless of age. Since Peeta's whole family had died in the explosion that destroyed District 12, only my sister's beloved would be reaped. There weren't many, only three names written neatly on separate pieces of off-white paper and put into the reaping ball-Gale Hawthorne, Haymitch Abernathy, and me, Primrose Everdeen. My mother was excluded because President Snow specifically wanted her to help work in the Capitol hospital. I can't help but think this was to insure my place in the Games. When the reaping actually happened, Haymitch's name was the one that was picked, but it was Gale who stepped up and took his place. To protect me, for Katniss's sake, I think. This whole set up was only to be expected, it's obviously President Snow's devious attempt to get back at Katniss for causing the rebellion. For being the Mockingjay. For trying and failing. Her punishment is to be forced to watch her loved ones die in a while that he knows will torture her alive.

I open my eyes and look around at all of us, all twenty-four of us tributes. I recognize only a few faces. Annie Cresta, from District 4. The crazy girl that Finnick Odair loves. The sight of her honestly breaks my heart, how Finnick must be feeling to have the girl he loves-the only thing he's ever loved- to be thrown into the Games again. It was the Games that made her mad in the first place. Right now, her hands are covering her ears and her eyes are tight shut. I have a horrible feeling she won't get out of this alive. I see a girl from District 11, one who looks very similar to how Rue looked on the television. But instead of looking small and innocent, this girl looks angry, her eyes are hard and fixed on the golden Cornucopia. I can tell she means war. She means revenge.

Children from the other Districts look a lot like the tributes from the Seventy-Fourth Games. Is that Cato's cousin? Glimmer's sister? They resemble past tributes so well. Will they target me first, since after all, I am Katniss's sister? Will they try to make make my death as painful as possible?

I advert my attention to Gale. His eyes are closed, and I can only wonder what he's thinking about right now. Katniss? His family? How to survive? I can see his chest move up and down quickly, breathing heavily. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt. This year, we're all dressed in a bright, neon orange tunic. It's soft and made of cotton. It doesn't offer very much protection or warmth for that matter, and the color isn't exactly perfect to blend in with the dark, eerie forest. They don't blend into anything, really, unless you're trying to blend into a fire. President Snow must have specifically picked these out, to make us visible and vulnerable to each other so we'd be easy to find and kill. You could spot another tribute from miles away in these things. I have a feeling these particular Games won't last for more than a week. There's very little places to hide and that forest is completely terrifying. Maybe I should just surrender. Because really, how am I going to kill anybody? I remember all those times Katniss tried to take me hunting. I can't kill anything. Not even a bird, or a squirrel. It leaves me with this twisted feeling in my gut. Why take a life when you can save it? And if I can't kill a measly rodent, how am I expected to kill a _human_ life?

I know I can't do it. I won't do it. I refuse. It's not a rule that I _have to _kill anybody. I know that in the Games, it's kill or be killed, and that if I don't defend myself, I'll most likely be dead by morning. Maybe I _should_ just run headfirst into the bloodbath and die…

No. I can't do that. I can't give up just yet. Katniss didn't, she stuck it out. She _won. _I might not have her ability to kill, but I do have her determination. I'm not going to count myself out. Not yet, anyways.

I close my eyes once more. I think I can do this. I can survive this. Or at least last a while until I decide when I want to go. I'm going to have to do this for Katniss sake. For mother's sake. For Lady and for Buttercup. I can do this. Or I can die trying.

My eyes open slowly, just in time for Claudius Templesmith to announce, "Ladies and Gentlemen, let the Seventy-Sixth Hunger Games begin!"

**A/N: **ConCrit? Review? Anyways, thanks for reading.J


	3. It Begins

I still remember the day my father died. Back when it happened, I didn't even know what was going on but I could tell from the way Mother and Katniss acted that something terrible had just occurred. I remember Mother clinging onto the flimsy rope surrounding the mines. It was as if she let go, she would let go of gravity. I remember the tears streaming down her cheeks. Silent. I remember Katniss, hugging our unresponsive Mother, weeping onto her, staining her shirt. Before I knew it. tears were flowing down _my _cheeks too, and I didn't even know why.

For the next several years, it was Katniss who saved us since Mother couldn't. Thinking back on it, I don't remember what Katniss was like before the accident. I just know that my father's death had hardened her. She was no longer a carefree little girl. She had the whole weight of our family on her shoulders. Mother was gone, swallowed deep in the depression of his loss. Nothing could pull her out except time.

I think that if Katniss wasn't there, we would have died. I was too young to do anything, and Mother _couldn't_ do anything. Katniss saved us, protected us. She could protect me from anything. Even the Games. She took my place and she won. My sister, the super hero.

But now, now in these Games, there's nothing she can do. Absolutely nothing. I'm all on my own.

When I finally figured out what happened that day, the day my father died, I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move. That's exactly how I feel now. The hordes of tributes dart towards the Cornucopia around me. Funny, I haven't even been here 20 seconds and the bloodbath has already started.

I will my legs to move, but they're glued to the ground by fear and absolute terror. I can only watch as the spears and knives pierce through the bodies. Fighting. Screaming. The sound of weapons hitting each other. Crimson.

They're going to be after me any minute now. All thoughts of previous planning disintegrate from my mind. Somebody kill me now. I can't do this. I just want it to be over with. Please be over.

"Prim! What the hell are you doing? Run! _Run_!"

My eyes find the source of the voice. It's Gale. He's running towards me with a burgundy backpack flung over his shoulder and an armful of spears. His eyes are wild with terror and blood streams down his face, forcing him to close his left eye. Shortly trailing behind him is a burly boy with a spear held high. Gale runs straight towards me screaming, "Prim! RUN!"

_Run! Run! _My legs slowly start to work again and not sure of where I'm going, but I take off into the unknown forest. I hear a faint male scream but I keep running. Run. Run. Keep going. Don't stop, Prim. And please, please don't let Gale be dead yet.

I keep running. I don't know how long or far I've gone but finally my legs give out and I crash onto the ground. Tall, thick trees surround me and a ghostly fog layers the air. Everything seems to be in shades of purple or black. As opposed to the meadow, there's no color here. No color, no signs of life, no hope.

I crawl into the nearby underbrush and sit with my knees drawn to my chest. My feet ache from running and my stomach growls from the lack of food. There's an eerie silence to the forest. I can't keep my mind from wondering where Gale and the rest of the tributes are. Was I being followed? Am I being watched right now?

It's dead quiet. No signs of other tributes or wild game. Panic starts to swell in my chest. Where is everyone? Shouldn't I be able to hear _something_? If not other tributes, then at least an animal? What am I going to eat? I know nothing. _Nothing_. I try to think back to the times when Katniss brought me into the woods or when she told me about her day hunting. My mind comes up completely blank. I can't remember anything. I close my eyes and find myself in fetal position on the ground. I guess I'm just going to have to tough it out till morning. If death comes in my sleep, I don't know if it would necessarily be a bad thing…

I wake a few hours later, unable to sleep from the bitter cold and the lack of food. It's still dark outside and I can see the faint light of the stars through the fog and forest trees. I realize I missed the images of the newly dead tributes in the sky last night. Shoot. This is a serious mistake. Now I don't know what or who I'm up against.

My stomach roars with hunger and my legs are stiff from the excessive use from yesterday. How did my sister do it? How did she survive these Games? Watching her on the television, she made it seem… well, not exactly easy, but not difficult either. Of course that's probably because she was used to keeping herself alive. But me? What did I do? I milked a goat. Compared to hunting down turkeys and other wild game all day I did hardly nothing.

Oh, Lady… I miss her so much! And Buttercup and mother and Katniss and… oh! I can feel the tears welling in my eyes. Don't cry, though, I think to myself, don't cry. My sister is watching me. I can't be a baby and let her down. No, I have to be strong for her.

Wait a second. My sister. My sister! She survived the Games! If I can do what she did, I can survive this. She's going to be the key to my survival!

So… what _did_ she do first? Well, I'm pretty sure she had picked up a bag at the Cornucopia that had food inside of it. And I lack that. Hmm.. Think… think!

Back in Katniss's Games, there was a girl. A girl from District 5, I think, with red hair. I don't remember her real name, but I'm pretty sure Katniss called her Foxface. She got her food by stealing it from the other tributes. I wonder if there's any tribute camps nearby…

I slowly and painfully get to my feet, my calves straining against me. But I need to move on, and besides, the suns coming up. I'm on pretty level ground and there's small shrubs to semi-conceal me from being totally out in the open. I just need to move quietly. Quietly and quickly. If I'm able to accomplish this task-this one tiny task- then I know I was right not to count myself out just yet.

I continue my journey. It's been ten, twenty minutes? Still no sign of any tributes. I'm beginning to think that this is impossible. I can't be the only one out here, can I? It sure seems like this. I'm almost positive that there's not a living soul for miles. Starvation nibbles at me and I realize that now, it's probably been at least a day since I ate last. Strenuous activity and lack of food is not a good combination. With every passing minute, I can feel the hunger take it's toll on me. Blurred vision, dry throat. Now I truly understand why it's called The Hunger Games.

The sun now blares down on me. It feels like it's being specifically focused on me. Wonderful. Hunger pains, aching muscles, and now this heat. Sweat builds up on my brow and my legs shake. My minds telling me to continue on when my body is screeching for me to stop. I feel like if I mo-

SCRREEEEEECHHHHH! A blood-curling scream pierces the air. Immediately I duck into the underbrush beside me and listen.

"No! Please-please have mercy!" A small voice shouts. She must be that blond haired girl younger than me from District 5. I close my eyes and unwillingly imagine the scenario she's going through. A larger boy holding her at knife-point? Pointing a spear at her?

Confirming my thoughts, I hear a booming laugh. "Mercy? This is the Hunger Games, girl. There is no such thing as _mercy_." I can't match a face to that voice, but I know I should be afraid of it. The boy laughs again. The girl screams and all is silent except the clumsy ruffling of leaves. The boy running away, possibly to find a new victim?

I count to twenty and open my eyes. No voices, no noises, he must be gone. I make my way towards the kill sight and stop. I see the girl. Bile rushes to my throat.

There she is, like I suspected, the small girl from District 5. She's covered head to toe in mud, camouflaged but still recognizable. Hot blood oozes from her upper body. A blood knife sticks straight out of her chest cavity.. Oh my gosh. Oh my.. I clamp my hand in front of my mouth to keep from puking.

As much as I want to run away, I know that I could use this to my benefit. There's a bag wrapped around her shoulder, and the knife… I swallow. I could use that knife later.

I take a deep breath and approach the girl. I flip her over gently with my foot and carefully remove the backpack from her. I watch as her limp arm rolls to the ground, unable to sustain itself. I dust of the bag and open it. There's a box of crackers, a stick of meat, a pocket knife, and a water bottle filled with dirty water. I know it'd be wise to take the knife from the girl, but I can't bring myself to do it. Something about it seems… wrong. Instead I just settle on my pack.

Disappearing into the underbrush, I nibble on some crackers. It's water that I need now. When I'm finished, I put the bag of crackers back into my pack and get up to my feet, feeling a bit better than I did previously. In my mind, I make a checklist of what I need to do; find water, stay hidden, find out if Gale's still alive or not, and lastly, I need to survive.

* * *

**A/N:** Wow! Sorry it's been so long since I've last updated. Been busy with school and catching up on Doctor Who and truthfully, I kind of lost inspiration for this story. But, I'm going to try to get back on it so bear with me! ConCrit would be really excellent on this, too. Anyways, thanks for reading! C:


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